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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22454260">When the World's at Stake</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MCUsic_to_my_ears/pseuds/MCUsic_to_my_ears'>MCUsic_to_my_ears</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Civil War Team Iron Man, I read a bunch of anti team cap fics and decided to make my own, Iron Family, Ironhusbands, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Not Steve Rogers Friendly, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Trans Peter Parker, not team Cap friendly, relationship building, world building</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-01-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 15:54:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,902</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22454260</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MCUsic_to_my_ears/pseuds/MCUsic_to_my_ears</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Rogues show up at Stark Tower to offer their help in the coming invasion. It doesn't go over well.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harley Keener &amp; James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Harley Keener &amp; Tony Stark, James "Rhodey" Rhodes/Tony Stark, Peter Parker &amp; James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Peter Parker &amp; Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1679</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Team Iron Man/Anti Steve, Tony Cinematic Universe One-Shots, ellie marvel fics - read, iron fam</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>When the World's at Stake</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is what? Four years too late? Whoops</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"How did you Spanish test go?" James asked, flicking off the water faucet and carrying the large pot over to the stove top. He turned up the dial and dolloped in some olive oil before turning to see Peter's frown. James raised an eyebrow. "What?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The teenager bit his lip, hands stilling on his backpack straps. "Dad said your back was hurting this morning." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>James shrugged. "Doesn't mean I can't make dinner." He salted the water with a bit more gusto than normal as if to prove his point. "Now your test. Remind me, was it speaking or writing?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But I could've moved the pot full of heavy water," Peter protested, hanging his backpack on the back of his usual chair, the third one down on the island. He slunk around the counter to join James by the stove, adjusting his binder. James considered reprimanding him for still having it on after the whole school day, but the boy had just gotten home. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It was what? Five pounds? I operate a half-ton suit in my free time, Pete." He tousled the boy's hair with a smirk when Peter shook him off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Six point six if you used three liters. Plus the pot," Peter mumbled under his breath, quickly assessing the volume of the pot and translating the density to weight, unable to move on before completing the conversion. "And the suit is powered by an ARC reactor producing five million kilojoules a second." Peter eyed the man’s braces, which encased his worn jeans. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>James wondered vaguely if there were any anniversaries approaching that were putting the boy so on edge, but he knew Tony would’ve warned him. It was possible his ‘Spidey Sense’ was acting up, but James realized he was probably just avoiding discussing his test. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>James sighed. "Your rapid conversions are not going to distract me from the results of your Spanish test, which I'm guessing was speaking if these avoidance tactics are anything to go by." He pulled out two packages of spaghetti noodles in preparation for the water coming to a boil. “You could’ve taken Italian and had your dad tutor you,” he reminded teasingly, causing the boy to roll his eyes in agitation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter only stayed over Thursday nights through Sunday mornings, and even though he was only a single addition to their family meals, James and Tony always doubled the amount of food they made to keep up with Peter's metabolism. He didn't eat it all in one sitting, although James was sure he was more than capable, but rather preferred to have smaller meals every hour or two. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>James tossed him a modified protein bar from the pantry to their left, which Peter easily caught, before grabbing a couple jars of homemade pasta sauce Tony made whenever he missed the Jarvis’. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter unwrapped the bar sheepishly, always feeling uncomfortable acknowledging his basic needs, before taking a bite. "It was speaking," he admitted, still chewing. James gave him a look and Peter swallowed apologetically. "Flash was my partner and… it's not like he was trying to trip me up or anything, but he never asked me any questions so I didn't get to talk as much as I probably needed to. And I only used like two idioms, and I needed at least five." Peter sighed, fiddling with his sweatpants string. "Normally I would've been okay if I got to ask all the questions, 'cause we practice that part in class all the time, but I was actually feeling prepared for this test. Like, the whole unit was about the environment and the future and technology, so it was really interesting. The prompt for the test was even cool, which never happens." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>James slid the noodles into the water that had come to a boil during Peter's rambling. The teen was about to dive back in after throwing away his protein bar wrapper when he perked up, clearly having heard something James couldn't, likely the near-silent elevator slide open on the other side of the floor. The penthouse had excellent soundproofing from the outside—as did the bedrooms further down the hall—but everything throughout the open floor plan was fair game for Peter's enhanced hearing. James knew that Peter didn't normally allow himself to react to little noises like that. However, it was obviously draining for the boy to stay so diligent, so no one chided him for letting go a little at home. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hi Dad!" Peter called happily. "Hi Harley!" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harley was the newest addition to the Stark-Rhodes household, having moved in the previous August to complete high school at Midtown Tech. After four years of keeping the boy at arm's length and quietly funding his family, Tony finally reached out that June. He had gained temporary guardianship in July. James was incredibly proud. Privately, he thought that his love of mentoring Peter for even the short time had spurred him into action, but Tony claimed that he didn't want to leave any stone unturned after his latest near-death experience. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey Pete," Tony called back as the pair crossed into the kitchen. The engineer had also gotten joint guardianship of Peter in light of May discovering his riskier extra-curriculars. James couldn’t help but approve of that as well. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harley bypassed a formal greeting, instead electing to jump on the back of his technically younger brother. Although both boys were both sixteen, Harley was in his junior year and Peter his sophomore. Peter easily caught his brother, grinning widely. James was pleased to see that some of his nervous energy was receding as he continued to talk about his day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How was aca-dec?” the older boy questioned as he hopped off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter shrugged. “Good. Cindy brought a gallon of Sunny D to share but didn’t think to grab any cups. I dumped out my water bottle though.” His eyes shone at the memory. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Flash didn’t do anything?” Harley pressed quietly, even though both parents were well aware of the bully. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah. MJ’s still mad at him about sneezing on her charcoal Marsha Johnson on Monday. He wouldn’t risk incurring her wrath.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good,” Harley nodded, satisfied. If there was anyone Harley trusted with his adopted brother, it was MJ. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meanwhile, Tony washed his hands before pulling the ground beef out of the fridge. James set up a large pan and turned on the burner for him. He and his partner exchanged a gentle kiss as a greeting before returning to their cooking. Tony separated and browned his meat while James idly stirred his noodles, handing his partner spices from the cabinet above himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Boys, if you grab the French bread out of the pantry, you can start on the garlic bread,” James instructed. He set out the garlic powder as Harley immediately went to search the pantry for the bread. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter pulled the butter from the fridge. “How much do I need to melt?” he asked, searching the plastic container as if it held anything more relevant than a cartoon cow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Depends on how much bread your going to make,” Tony considered, turning to assess Peter, likely noticing the slight tinge in his voice. He loved both boys equally, but was always a hair bit more concerned about Peter. If he spotted the binder pressing against the shorter boy’s loose Midtown shirt, then he didn’t mention it to James. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All of it!” Harley announced, holding the loaf above his head, triumphantly emerging from the pantry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony chuckled. “Half a cup then. You can always melt more if that’s not enough.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter nodded and quickly located a glass measuring cup that he scoop butter into. James handed a knife and cutting board to Harley, who was hopeless at finding anything in the kitchen even after living in the penthouse for months. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The family lapsed into a comfortable silence, warmed both by the company and the sunlight trickling in through the two giant windows framing the entertainment center in the living room adjacent to the kitchen. James serenely hummed under his breath some song Peter had been playing nonstop recently. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony kissed his partner again, similarly content in the moment. Thursday night dinners were special. They were the first day Peter was back after spending most of the week with May. Harley and Tony always spent time in the lab together while Peter was at decathlon practice and while James was at physical therapy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thursday days weren’t Tony’s favorite in particular, along with Tuesdays, because they were what he called his ‘Accords days’. Meetings at the UN building and conference calls with DC. James knew bureaucracy was never his strong suit, but after the fiasco in Germany, Tony had learned to put on the kiddie gloves twice a week. The other days, he had begun to take his role as head of R&amp;D seriously, along with majority shareholder of SI, which James was sure Pepper appreciated. He still scratched his inventing itch, but taking a step back and guiding the younger engineers had brought a joy to him that Tony hadn’t expected. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A lot could change in only a couple of months. For once, it was for the better, James mused. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The microwave beeped and Peter stirred the still solid butter before sending it in for another minute, cautious after exploding one too many snacks in the machine. His shoulders tensed suddenly and James was about to ask what was wrong when FRIDAY interrupted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Boss.” Her cool voice was a bit more electronic than normal, indicating the urgency. “Steve Rogers has crossed the Tower’s perimeter and is attempting to enter the building.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter and Harley exchanged a wide-eyed look. Harley set down his knife and Peter quickly abandoned the butter, darting to where his backpack hung next to his brother. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God, that—” Tony pointed to Peter and Harley. “—Earmuffs—” Neither boy moved. “—Fucking idiot.” He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose, and took a deep breath. His fingers had a slight tremor running through them, and he wiped them on his frayed lab jeans. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Stark, did you know that the Rogues were here?” Peter asked, pale. He only resorted to the old moniker when verging on panic. He forced himself to snap his mouth shut before he could ramble anxiously. He began rifling through his backpack. It was likely that this was what had been pinging Peter’s sense earlier, even though nobody would have been able to place it until now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, yeah, I knew Rogers and his merry band of dumbasses were in the US again,” he grumbled, eyes flicking between his family members as if one of them were liable to disappear at any moment. “Me and Rhodey-bear were laughing about it last night. I was going to wait for them to commit a crime before alerting the rest of the EPF Board.” James placed a calming hand on his partner’s back. “Now—” Tony clapped his hands together. “—let’s all go to a safe room so that I can deal with Cap and Co.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter yanked his Spider-Man mask out of his bag. “No,” he said simply, calm sluicing over him now that he had it. His posture relaxed further as he ensured his webshooters were still under his sleeves. James made a note to check up with Peter’s therapist about his paranoia. The boy didn’t need to be wearing those while cooking dinner. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony frowned. “Peter, I know you’ve fought them before, but I don’t want you anywhere near that mess again.” He glanced at James, a wild plea in his eyes. “Priorities change. And now the priority it your safety. FRIDAY, alert Happy to the breach and put a few Legionnaires on standby.” He reached into his front pocket to retrieve a red box about the size of a mint tin. Maybe it was Tony’s therapist James needed to speak with, he considered while watching his partner. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Already done, boss,” the AI replied easily. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dad-” Harley started.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Be prepared to evacuate the building.” Tony glanced at his watch, slipping the box back into his pocket, satisfied that it was there. “For now, lock it down.” He turned to Harley, ignoring FRIDAY’s affirmation. “Why aren’t you in a safe room?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because you have no sense of self-preservation.” He held up his own silver box, which inside contained millions of nano-particles. At a click of a button, they would envelope Harley in protective armor. Tony didn’t take chances with his family’s safety. James’s braces contained compartments for the particles as well and Peter always had the Iron Spider suit ready to expand from his webshooters. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before the family could further argue, the power cut out. It was only half a minute before the backup ARC reactor kicked in, but in that time, the family moved together into the space between the kitchen and the living room, unconsciously bringing all exits into their view. James barely remembered to turn down the heat on the stove, not wanting anything to burn. Despite the tension, he wasn’t expecting this to take long. There was a crash from both windows in the living room and the elevator doors open. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilson and Barton quickly recovered from their less than ideal position as Maximoff’s crash dummies while she herself floated through the now open space. Rogers approached from the elevator, shoulders tight and jaw locked. Each Rogue bore a seething look, containing various levels of rage and contempt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Always did know how to make an entrance,” Tony remarked coolly. “I see Maximoff’s magic broke through my nuke-proof glass. I’ll have to talk to the contractor about that,” he tutted, forced blase only marred by his crossed arms hiding his shaking fingers. He kept his family firmly behind himself. “What can I do for you all?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We need to talk, Stark,” Barton snarked in a clipped tone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well I’m a busy man. You’ll have to talk to my PA about scheduling an appointment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rogers scoffed. “Enough Tony. Take this seriously.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, your little B&amp;E? Yeah, I’m taking that seriously. FRIDAY’s taking pictures for the insurance company. Say ‘Hi’.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you he would act like a child,” Barton sneered, face taut with hatred. Wilson glanced at the cameras despite the others’ lack of concern. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rogers sighed, holding up a hand. Like Tony, he stood in front of his posse. “We got wind about the invasion coming, Tony. The world needs the Avengers, we’re here to help.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanos?” Tony raised an eyebrow. “He’s still three months from this solar system. Besides, I’ve been subconsciously planning for this attack for years. All those nightmares, panic attacks you never bothered to address? The Witch’s visions?” Tony nodded to Maximoff while keeping his eyes on Rogers’. “Now that I’m a little more coherent about it, you’d be amazed by all the plans I’ve got cooked up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>James inclined his head, schematics for extra-planetary armor and piling up favors from enhanced persons swirling around inside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure the world would love another murder bot, you’re so right Stark,” Barton jeered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You always seem to forget that I created Vision too,” Tony mused. Maximoff’s eyes flashed at the mention of her past lover. Tony took pity on her, even though James wouldn’t have. “He’s at Oxford, by the way. Getting his PhD in behavioral neuroscience. He can spot abuse from miles away now, so I wouldn’t bother tracking him down.” Pride tinged his taunts ever so slightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stark,” Rogers interrupted, then softened his tone slightly. “Tony. Look, I know we’ve got a lot of bad blood, but we need to put it all behind us to deal with this threat. Water under the bridge.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pretty sure you burned that bridge,” Harley scoffed. Peter elbowed him, but both boys were ignored. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rogers, I’m telling you right now that we don’t need nor want your help. I would recommend you leave well enough alone and crawl back to your boyfriend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rogers glowered, clearly touchy about the whole Barnes thing still. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where is he any way?” Tony pressed. “Still too risky to let the fugitive out of Shuri’s cryo-chamber?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maximoff and Wilson exchanged a look, concerned that Tony had known their base of operations. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the same time, Rogers protested, “Bucky is not a fugitive!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time, Harley couldn’t stop himself. “Tell that to the twelve people who died in Bucharest.” He crossed his arms over his chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Harley,” Tony warned, not wanting either of his children to get involved. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>However, Barton’s angry features softened, as if just realizing the boys were present. “Kid, it’s alright. We can protect you. Whatever Stark’s said to you, to either of you, it’s a lie.” He looked between Peter and Harley, clearly reminded of his own children. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you three self-absorbed dumb fucks didn’t collapse a bridge in order to escape arrest?” Harley’s voice was steal. He kept his gaze trained on Rogers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, but-” Rogers started. Barton reactively reached for his holster causing Tony to edge closer to Harley, who continued without hesitation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you didn’t cause millions of dollars in damages in an airport in Germany? An airport that was only free of civilians because Dad had the capacity to think for five seconds and clear it out. That didn’t happen?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Rogers sputtered before gaining control of himself. “Well, yes, but you don’t understand that politics of the time-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure?” Harley interrupted coolly. “Did you </span>
  <em>
    <span>read </span>
  </em>
  <span>the Accords? I know it's long—a couple hundred pages is a lot for someone who didn’t graduate high school—but it only took my government class two weeks to get through the important parts. And we were freshmen dickheads who wouldn’t know morality if it bit us in the ass. We understood the politics perfectly if you ask me. Government oversight isn’t a muzzle,” he mocked. “We used to eat rat carcasses and factory worker’s pinkies before the government stepped in.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s different.” Rogers looked like he couldn’t believe he was arguing with a teenager and </span>
  <em>
    <span>losing. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Wilson and Barton had similar expressions on their faces while Maximoff continued to glare at Tony. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How? Was it different because your precious Bucky was involved?” Peter jumped in, voice hard. James had sat in on Peter’s comms during patrol before. He had heard Peter make puns at rapists and burglars. He had never heard this sort of wrath before. “Or because you were grieving Miss. Carter? Newsflash, you weren’t the only one that knew her! Mr. Stark was just as upset as you are and you know what he did? He continued to work with the UN.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Exactly!” Maximoff finally interjected. “Stark is a robot. He has no emotion. He only thinks of himself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Himself and the hundred other nations that wanted the Accords in place?” Peter shot back, fingers clenching at his side. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Angry red magic flared in Maximoff’s eyes and danced between her fingers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both teens opened their mouths to rail against the Rogues, but Tony beat them to it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Boys, go to your room,” Tony ordered, jaw locked. His arms were no longer protectively in front of his chest, despite the witch’s threat. Upon further review, he was no longer nervous at all. James saw the Iron Legion hovering outside the window, waiting for Tony’s cue. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah boys, listen to your daddy,” Barton taunted, no longer sympathetic towards the pair after their outburst. Their stance was clear. Harley placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder, whether it was protective or inhibitory, James wasn’t sure. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony rolled his eyes. “You’re one to talk. Have the divorce papers cleared customs yet? Or are you still checking the mailbox every day?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you talking about Stark?” the archer growled as the boys angrily crossed away, Peter keeping Harley in front of him despite Harley’s discrete protest. Only Harley would believed that Peter was the ‘squishier’ human between the pair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony first watched his sons retreat to Peter’s bedroom, which was the further of the two. James took a step forward to stand at his side. “You didn’t seriously think that Laura would want to stay with you after you became an international fugitive did you? Probably one too many lies for her to handle.” Tony shook his head, an undeserving ounce of sympathy seeping out. “You could’ve avoided this whole thing, man. You were retired.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Barton paused, processing what he just heard, eyes darkening. Wilson rested a hand on the father’s shoulder. He clearly loved Laura and loved his kids, James mused. He just loved the game more. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So are you, I heard,” Rogers noted conversationally, as if trying to schmooze Tony into helping them again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony considered him for a moment, skeptical. “I turned down a Board position with the new Enhanced Peacekeeping Force, yeah. Sold the Compound and everything.” He shrugged, although James knew how many sleepless nights had preceded this casual behavior. “Superheroing was always supposed to be a part time gig for me. Ironman is only an auxiliary member,” he added. James wondered why he was giving up information that was unlikely to affect the Rogues again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So all this effort for the Accords and then you quit?” Rogers taunted. He crossed his arms, a superior look on his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well I can’t be both a Board member for the EPF and an Accords councilmember. Getting to select personnel as well as voting on regulations that would affect the Force? That would be a conflict of interest.” He leaned back against the end of the kitchen island, much more at ease now that his kids were safe and the Legion was in sight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ironman is still a member though,” Wilson pointed out, trying to figure out what Tony was playing at. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony rolled his eyes. “A threat must reach a certain threshold for Ironman to be called in. Unlike before, we don’t get to pick and choose what constitutes a threat. The Board consists of team leaders representing each of the international groups formed under the Accords. If a world level threat crops up, then they can vote to send Ironman in. And regardless, I abstain from all amendments that include auxiliary members. Unlike your pal Rogers here, I know when to stand down.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about you Rhodes?” Maximoff jabbed, lashing out for the sake of it. “Did you cower in the government too?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilson looked a bit uncomfortable with the inclusion of James in the argument, eyeing the braces wearily. However, James was expecting the attack, knowing Maximoff couldn’t leave well enough alone. “‘Cower’ would probably be an exact antonym of what Tones is doing. But no. If you watched the news at all, you would know that I am the commander of the US-based EPF.” He considered adding that between his PhD work, the Vision was heading the UK’s EPF, but his watch vibrated first. He smiled despite himself. “I would recommend taking a step back,” he tacked on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maximoff looked about a second away from spitting in James’ face while the others glanced around in confusion when the elevator door opened. Immediately, the three men drew firearms and Maximoff conjured her mist. They kept their weapons trained on the man who approached. He kept his hands up, but looked completely at ease. A few feet from exiting the hallway, he stopped. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Boss, you’ve got some wackos trespassing,” he announced dryly, directing his attention to Tony. Maximoff clenched her jaw. Assessing that their new arrival wasn’t a threat, Rogers put away his gun and the other two followed suit, always the sheep. Barton placed a hand on the girl’s shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Better call the cops, Hap,” Tony responded dryly, equally amused. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, did that when FRIDAY informed me of the breech. And the EPF Board for good measure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Funny, I didn’t get the memo,” James replied. His eyes were trained on the four fugitives, who were shifting uneasily at the sudden change. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>FRIDAY piped up, catching onto the game. “Check you email, Colonel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>James inclined his head in acknowledgement, gaze strictly on the Rogues. “Send the Board my recommendation and approval to utilize the Iron Legion in apprehending the international fugitives.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Board has voted in favor of intervention,” FRIDAY reported. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A flick of Tony’s wrist and the awaiting Legionnaires entered the living room. Each one landed next to an ex-Avenger. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now, you can try to fight your way out of this. Frankly, it’s insulting that you would try, but you can. But then resisting arrest would be tacked onto your list of crimes in the US and, trust me, you don’t want to make that warrant much longer than it is. You’ve already killed enough in the making of your great escape. Don’t need to add the Amazon to that as well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Barton eyed the humanoid drone. “Stark, you don’t have to do this. Let’s talk.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony raised an eyebrow. “You want to talk? What have we been doing for the last ten minutes? Playing charades?” He shook his head. “First, you break into my house, insisting that you’re here to help against an invasion I’ve been warning you about for years. Then you threaten my family, insult my work with the Accords. Now, though, when you finally get cornered, </span>
  <em>
    <span>now </span>
  </em>
  <span>you want to talk. You’re unbelievable, you know that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Barton pressed on. “We’re a family, Stark. Through everything, we have to have each others backs. The world needs us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony scoffed. “I have a family, thank you. One that actually does have my back.” His eyes flicked to James, causing the others to consider him as if finally noticing his presence, despite his earlier contributions. “And I let it slide the first time, but you’re right, the world does need the Avengers. Only issue with your interpretation is your delusion that you still are one.” Tony rolled his eyes before perking up. “Oh hey, and that response time that you were pretending to be concerned about Rogers? All that red tape? It took ten minutes to get approval to engage an international threat. You still would’ve been picking out which cowl to take with you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I admit that I could’ve handled the situation better Tony, but you could’ve too,” Rogers answered, still audacious enough to act earnestly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s a lot of shit you could’ve handled better. Lucky for you I’m not pressing charges for Siberia. It would be a waste of my time, especially with everything else the jury will be deliberating on.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilson’s eyes jumped to Rogers. “What’s he talking about? You said that you and Bucky confronted the five Winter Soldiers alone in Siberia,” he accused. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony raised an eyebrow. “Captain Perfect didn’t tell you about how he withheld information about my parents’ murder to protect his pet project? Or how he and his sidekick attacked me and left me for dead?” He turned his attention back to Rogers. “My therapist says thanks for the extra sessions she’s getting paid for because of that, by the way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rogers stiffened, always uncomfortable with any references to mental health, as if it were still taboo. “I did what was best.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For who? For you? Still believing that ‘safest hands are our own’ bull?” Tony let out an offended breath. He nodded to FRIDAY and the suits began cuffing the trespassers. Both Maximoff and Rogers received power dampening devices as well. They were all too shocked to really struggle. “You all should’ve taken a page out of Lang’s book and turned yourselves in. He’s only got five years in the US for breaking parole and theft before being extradited to Germany for the remaining twenty five. I doubt you lot will see the light of day again after all the stunts you’ve pulled.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’ll be shorter than you think,” Barton snarled, jerking against the Legionnaire’s grip. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, are you talking about Romanoff? She should be transferred into the United Nations’ custody in—” He glanced at his watch. “—fifteen minutes. Got caught illegally crossing the Indian-Pakistani border last night. Naughty girl,” he tutted. “Happy, please escort my house guests to their new arrangements.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With pleasure, boss.” Happy gave a two-fingered salute before directing the suits to follow him along with their charges. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“See you at your hearings,” Tony called after them. “I’m sure I’ll get subpoenaed.” He turned back to the kitchen. “And if my beef is burnt, I’m calling my lawyer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With the Rogues taken care of, Peter and Harley returned quickly, suits tucked away. Peter was now in a loose sweatshirt, taking the opportunity to take off his binder. They checked both parents over for any injuries and once they were satisfied, pulled into a long overdue embrace. They drew apart with Tony placing a final kiss on James’ mouth before he went to check his meat. Both boys groaned at the affection. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rhodey, you truly are my hero,” he commented when he saw that the burner had been turned down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>James brightened. “I do what I can.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boys followed the casual mood, returning to their previous tasks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll talk about what happened after dinner,” Tony announced. “No need for Rogers to ruin another night.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was pretty badass, Dad,” Harley teased, slicing the final piece of bread for Peter to coat with his garlic butter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you.” Tony jokingly bowed. “Glad that it's over. I was tired of negotiating with Wakanda for their capture. The King mention they were holding out for pardons.” He rolled his eyes and the others chuckled. “So how did you Spanish test go today, Pete?”</span>
</p>
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